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How Can I live for the Day?
How can I live for the day,
When it’s another day of death?
How can you comfort me,
When the comfort you offer only mocks reality?
And how can I embrace reality as something hopeful
When I am told reality isn’t really real?
So yeah,
Fuck you, and the virginity
You stuck me with.
I don’t much care for Mexican philosophers
Who have philosophed in the hopes
Of righteous denial.
Old women who have scarred themselves
Just to protect themselves
From the bruises which may or may not have come.
I could feel sympathy for this pain
That is the pain of those
Who fought with tools
Before they could use the tools
To protect those they should have protected.
I could have cried alongside your deaths
And proved my corpse
To be gasping for the air of your poison
As though it was love.
And I should have predicted
That these kindnesses along with their brethren
Would matter little
To the bitch who pardoned herself
Lest others judge her
Who condemned others
Lest others
Should seek to be human alongside her
In this dreary quest for humanity of yours
In a world peopled only by your thoughts
Thoughts that in the end
Will make a shallow grave.
